Harry Potter and the Final Straw
by courderouge2006
Summary: 4th Year: Once again Harry is front and center for the Wizarding World's controversy. Bolstered by close friends and a surprising alliance & impugned by greasy bats and students, he reaches a breaking point. The timid, respectful knockaround is going to fight back using lessons ingrained in him by his upbringing with his "loving relatives". Dumbles/Ron bashing, Slight OOC Harry.
_AN: Howdy. Guess it's been a little while. I wanted to get this out of the way and the summary just isn't long enough to do so. I realize a lot of people are going to say "you went way out of line, Harry's nothing like he is in the books, and he's acting out of character!"_

 _Well… duh. It's fanfiction. We can right what we want to using the basic details as a jumping off point. I truly believe that pretty much anything I am going to write in this story I can back up with details from the books, and make an argument that it could have gone my way with the right pushes. I liked the series, but I hate how it ended. There were way too many injustices in JK Rowling's "All was well" ending. Some of my thoughts on that can be seen in my other Harry Potter story posted on here about four years ago._

 _There is going to be character bashing here but as I said before it is based in the reality of this world given to us in the books. Big warning to you if you're a fan of one jealous Weasley in particular._

 _I know this isn't going to do any good, but I'll feel better just saying it. After this note, you should realize that coming on and leaving comments or flames about how OOC Harry is and how I'm slamming certain characters is completely ridiculous, and says more about your A.D.D. than anything else. It won't do any good, but it makes it more fun to laugh at you._

 _To everyone else who hopefully will enjoy taking this journey, thanks. Now let's get going._

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" _So what are the odds this is going to go well_?" Harry thought to himself as he sat perched atop one of the tables in the Great Hall. The always impressive room seemed to be even larger this year to accommodate the groups from the two visiting schools. He and the rest of the students watched as the Weasley twins tried up to the very last minute to enter their names in the cup, but the only thing to show for their valiant attempts was the growing pile of paper airplanes littering the floor around the Goblet.

His thoughts were interrupted by a heavy thump and a relieved exhale, signaling the arrival of the third member of the "Golden Trio". Glancing over he couldn't help but grin at the new arrival. "I started to wonder if you were going to make it or if I'd have to come find you in the library to keep you from missing curfew."

Hermione huffed, a shake of her head sending her bushy ponytail bouncing. "Honestly Harry, there is absolutely nothing wrong with having an aggressive attitude toward your studies, you might even benefit from it. I already told Ronald he was not going to copy every essay from me this year so don't think I'll let you get away with it either." She already had a notebook in hand, making notes of who was attending tonight's ceremony from the Ministry and such. Her attention to detail made him shake his head at times but it did often come in handy. "Now, did I miss anything other than Fred and George using a small forest to continuously attempt to enter the tournament?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but they're getting more creative… desperate, but creative. At one point Fred sat on George's shoulders and tried dropping a pair of parchments with the names "Gred" and "Forge" on them, hoping the Goblet might let them compete together. That time it only blasted George across the room out from under Fred, leaving him to fall face first to the floor."

The huff she made was probably meant to convey sheer exasperation at the twin's antics, but he could see the slight uptick of her lip as she fought the smile. "I swear those two… I'm going to spend most of my first year as Prefect keeping them from torturing first years with their Wheezes and pranks, I just know it."

"We're barely into our fourth year Hermione, getting ahead of yourself aren't you?"

"Really Harry, we're nearly two months into the term that hardly counts as 'barely'. And there is nothing wrong with planning for the future. You should consider it yourself, you are most likely to be chosen out of the boys in our year. Who else will they pick to enforce the rules? Neville is a good guy but he would be walked all over. Seamus and Dean are more likely to be found swapping football and girl magazines. And Ron? Really? They might as well give me both badges if they picked him, I'd do all the work anyway." Her words hadn't been spoken harshly, they were simply matter of fact. She glanced up from her writing, lip curled slightly as her warm eyes met his. "At least I can count on you." Her hand rested on his knee, giving a slight squeeze before pulling away. Since first year she knew he hadn't been used to physical contact... not comforting contact at least. She knew the hugs she'd managed had been nearly miraculous to pull off so she didn't want to push her luck.

Harry felt himself warm, both from her words and her touch. He had to admit she made good points about the other boys in his year. And thinking over it, being a Prefect would mean more time with the fairer of his two best friends. That idea quickly grew on him as he considered it. Ron was a good guy as long as you stayed away from certain topics. But with Hermione there hadn't really been any times where he doubted the strength of their friendship. Even the Firebolt incident last year had been blown out of proportion as Harry let himself be fired up by the redhead, and Harry felt a stir of shame that he had yet to truly apologize to Hermione for that. She had sincerely been looking out for him.

He watched her for a bit. As comfortable as she was with pen and parchment in hand, he often forgot she had grown up nearly as socially impaired as he had. At least she had loving family, he couldn't imagine if she'd had to grow up as he had. The innate goodness that was in Hermione would have been joyously trampled at Number 4 Privet Drive, and he couldn't bear to think beyond that how she would have been affected. Calling on his "Gryffindor Courage", he reached out… hand hesitating in the air before setting on her shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze of his own.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, head snapping up as she stared out across the hall. Turning slowly she looked at the hand on her shoulder, following the wrist then the forearm all the way up finally see it was in fact attached to Harry. He had never initiated such… intimate contact before. A touch or a tap to ask for a pen or get her attention, yes. But this, simple as it was, was very different. She shook her head slightly, eyelids fluttering for a moment. "I'm… I'm sorry, what did you say Harry?"

He grinned softly at her. "I said thank you, Hermione."

Her brow knitted together, confused for a moment. "For what?"

Harry only shrugged slightly. "Everything I guess."

Returning the smile, Hermione reached up to lay her hand over his.

"Oy Harry, they get lucky yet?"

Hermione scowled as she went back to making notes, feeling the hand pull away suddenly. Of course Ron would pick that very instant to show up and interrupt the tender moment. Even if Harry had made a big step forward tonight, it would be asking too much for him to be comfortable with being that openly affectionate.

Harry shook his head to answer Ron as the newcomer flopped into a spot next to Harry on the table top. "None so far. I think they're out of ideas though. It's just kind of sad now." He glanced around the room as most of the male voices suddenly dropped away, giving a hint as to who had just walked into the Hall. Fleur Delacour trailed a mixed group of Ravenclaws and her own Beauxbatons schoolmates, walking at her own pace.

Harry wasn't the best student of human behavior, but the French girl had caught his attention from the night she arrived. Though admittedly not in the same way she had caught everyone else's. Nearly every boy had been left slack jawed at the entrance of the mostly female contingent, and the appearance of the young Veela had taken care of the rest. When she had come to their table to ask for the bouillabaisse, Harry had felt a tug at his mind but had managed to shake it off and speak to her normally instead of simply nodding while slack jawed. He wondered at that, until thinking back and remembering the mascots for the Bulgarian World Cup team. They had been Veela and he had seen the effect they had on guys in the crowd. Even Ron had seemed a bit out of it, and they were at the top of the stadium.

Harry found it disconcerting later on when Professor Moody had put their class under the Imperius curse and the sensation was vaguely similar to the Veela allure. Instead of voicing his concerns immediately to his friends, Harry had taken a page from Hermione's book and gone to the library to do some research.

His search on Veela had led him to realize that while Veela were lauded as most beautiful and desirable, the allure would most likely lead to a harsh, lonely life for the most part. He watched the French girl after that and now felt a kindred spirit of sorts, as far as unwanted fame. Most boys couldn't talk to her since they were unable to fight off the effects of the allure, and most of the girls hated her for getting all the boy's attention. It was a vicious cycle she was trapped in due to circumstances out of her control.

Clearing his throat as she passed the table, Harry took another chance. "Bonjour, mademoiselle." He cursed himself mentally for how unsure his tone made him sound, but it was too late to change things now.

Fleur and Hermione both looked to the raven haired boy, eyes widening in sync though for different reasons. Fleur raised a brow slightly, stepping closer to the boy. "Bonjour, Monsieur Potter. Parlez-vous francais?"

Harry's mouth opened to respond… and hung there. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he cleared his throat again. "I um… I apologize. But that is nearly all of the French that I know." Harry took that moment to slide from the table top and stand as he spoke to the Veela. "Actually, it's all the French I know. I don't even know what you just asked. Sorry."

Fleur's mouth curled a bit higher into a grin, and Hermione was prepared to step in to protect her friend against the haughty French witch. But it turned out to be unnecessary. "It is alright Monsieur Potter. I simply was asking if you spoke French. Ironically you still managed to answer my question. So far you are living up to your legend."

Harry's head bowed a bit at her phrasing and Fleur's eyes narrowed in concentration. "It is my turn to apologize it seems. I meant nothing by that, Monsieur."

Harry shook his head. "It's fine, really. And you don't have to be all that formal on my account, just Harry will do. How do you like our school so far?"

Hermione sat and watched the interaction, emotions clashing inside of her. As proud as she was of Harry for reaching out and taking a step toward the "international cooperation" Dumbledore had mentioned at the beginning of the year, a part of her was unnerved at the easy interaction between the two. Of course Harry was her best friend, but since the night they rescued Sirius another aspect of their relationship had been coming to the forefront of her thoughts. Something she had tamped down from first year when she saw Harry rushing to her rescue on Halloween.

Harry was a celebrity in their world, and most girls grew up with fairy tales of his adventures and dreamed of the day they could meet him. Hermione had even been pulled in by some of the books concerning Harry in the time between finding out she was a witch and her first year at Hogwarts, but all of that had gone by the wayside when she actually got to meet him. Even if he wasn't the epic hero the obviously fictional books had made him out to be, what she found was even better. Harry had been a true friend to her, and even through the ups and downs he'd been there with her. She'd stood by him during second year during the Heir of Slytherin debacle, and though she handled it poorly her intentions had been good when she told McGonagall about Harry's broomstick last year. And they had made it through that as well.

She sighed softly as she finally admitted to herself that she had more than friendly feelings for Harry, the kind wizard she was now watching hold a conversation with the beautiful French girl no other boy had managed to so far.

Hearing the exhalation next to him, Harry looked over to her and grinned. "Oh, excuse me. I'm not sure if you two have met?" He directed it as a question to both girls, seeing both shake their heads. "Fleur Delacour I'd like you to meet the brightest witch in our school, Hermione Granger. She's one of my greatest friends."

Fleur smiled at Hermione and extended a hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Granger."

Hermione stood with them, placing her notebook on the bench. "You as well. And please, Hermione is just fine." Taking the offered hand, she gently shook.

"Then I would ask you both to call me Fleur. We shall keep it friendly all around."

Harry nodded, and then shifted as he realized something. "Oh, I didn't introduce our other friend. This is my best mate, Ron… Weasley…" Harry's voice trailed off as he turned to see Ron staring at the visitor, jaw hanging slack complete with a bit of the dessert he'd managed to hold onto after supper nearly falling from his lip. He winced, turning back to Fleur with an apologetic look.

Fleur raised a brow as she looked at Ron, the harder edge returning to her features. "Ah yes. The one who stares."

Hermione glanced between the two for a moment. "Umm, excuse me Fleur? In all fairness, don't most men… boys… don't most of them stare at you?"

Fleur nodded. "Oui. However, most manage to gain control of themselves after a bit. This one, however… Well, we have been standing here talking for several minutes now and as you can see…" She gestured, letting the visual speak for itself just as the piece of food fell from Ron's mouth to the floor.

Harry cleared his throat, managing to step to his right and hopefully cut off most of the view of his friend. "Sorry about that. As much as I'm sure you're used to it, the staring never really gets easier does it?"

Fleur smiled softly at Harry. "You get used to it. But then suddenly, someone appears who manages to surprise you." As easily as she realized Harry wasn't exactly picking up on the not quite subtle inference behind her words, she could tell Hermione had from the look on her face. Realizing that there were feelings beyond friendship beginning to grow, for at least one of the two, Fleur let it lie for the time being. "Thank you for the conversation, but it appears the ceremony will be starting soon and I should find my… friends. Bon chance." With a glance into Hermione's eyes, she turned and walked off.

Harry watched as she left to meet with the other Beauxbatons students and then turned to Hermione. "What did she say at the end there?"

Hermione smiled at Harry's unwavering faith that she would be able to answer almost anything he could ask her, this time apparently guessing that she understood French. "She said 'good luck'."

Looking confused, Harry too his seat on the table again. "Good luck? Didn't she know we're both too young to enter the tournament?"

Hermione nodded to him, picking up her notebook and taking her seat as she thought over what the French girl had actually been saying to her in particular. "I believe she does. Perhaps she meant it universally as a farewell."

Harry was hindered in a reply by Dumbledore calling everyone's attention to the front of the Great Hall. A good show was made as the lights lowered and the Goblet began to spew and spout flame. A whoosh saw a smoldering scrap of parchment floating in the air to be snatched by the headmaster, and Viktor Krum to be announced as the Durmstrang champion. The girls at the table he was perched on seemed to swoon as Viktor walked up and Harry grinned slightly, happy to let someone else take the attention for the coming year.

Another rush of flame and a charred blue scrap was falling through the air, folded in such a way as to make it easy to guess it was a Beauxbatons entrant. As Fleur's name was called, Harry and Hermione clapped for her but were more than likely drowned out by the catcalls and whistles.

With one left to go, Harry's foot began tapping as he leaned forward, arms perched on his knees. Even though he knew he hadn't entered his name he was still nervous. Something managed to happen every year and he hoped this would be different. He simply wanted a normal year. A soft touch on his bouncing knee brought him to a stop and he looked to see Hermione's hand there again. She obviously could guess why he was nervous and tried to calm his nerves, a comforting smile on her face. Feeling a bit calmer, Harry laid his hand over hers and squeezed once, mouthing a "thank you" to her. He turned back to the front of the hall, not yet releasing her hand.

A final rush of flame and Dumbledore grabbed the falling scrap, unfolding it after blowing the remaining flame out. "And the Champion for Hogwarts…" his eyes scanning the hall for a moment before settling back onto the paper, "… is Cedric Diggory!"

Harry's head dropped as he finally let go of the held breath, softly chuckling. He could finally look forward to a mostly normal year of school, something he wouldn't have guessed a few years ago he would ever long for.

"It's ok, Harry. It's all ok, you see?" Hermione squeezed his knee once more, a wide smile on her face as she was elated that Harry wasn't going to be placed in harm's way this year.

He nodded to her, reaching back with his free hand to pick up his satchel when a gasp rang out through the room. The Goblet flared again, a deep red rush of flames rising before something flew out again, floating down still in flames to be caught in Dumbledore's palm. He smothered it quickly, blowing on his blistered palms before he unfolded it. The headmaster's eyes widened as his eyes snapped up to roam the students.

Harry's hand tightened over Hermione's, painfully so without even realizing it. "No no no no no…" he chanted almost silently as a burning, nauseous feeling settled in his gut.

Dumbledore searched the crowd, eyes reaching the Gryffindor table and finally settling on the Boy-Who-Lived. He licked at his dried lips, voice almost croaking. "Harry Potter."

Hermione's heart dropped as she heard it, confirming the worst possible scenario. She'd rather have heard her own name than Harry's just now. She felt the hand over hers fall away and Harry seemed to just go limp, the will leaving his body. "Ha… Harry. Harry look at me," she whispered, though it still came off echoing in the nearly silent room. "Harry." Standing, the notebook falling from her lap to clatter on the floor, she moved to stand in front of Harry. Putting her hands on his forearms, she leaned in a bit closer, ignoring everyone else in the room for a moment. "Harry, please. Look at me."

After what seemed an eternity, Harry's head tilted upwards. She saw the glassy look in his eyes, and she realized he was barely holding himself in check. She fought the moistening of her own eyes and smiled at him, forcing it a bit. "Ok. There you are. Harry, you need to go back there with the cha… the _other_ champions."

Harry shook his head. "I can't. I didn't enter my name. This is… its happening again."

She just nodded. "I know you didn't. I believe you. But you need to go. We can't start figuring out what to do about this until we have the facts. You need to go talk to them. I'll be waiting." She squeezed his forearms, nodding at her own words as if to convince herself as much as him.

Harry nodded once to her before sliding off of the table. Murmurs were starting around the hall as he walked, but one caught his attention from behind him.

"Selfish prick just out for glory..."

Harry stopped mid-step, turning just his head to look back over his shoulder. He saw Ron, hands clasped so tightly they were turning white as he stared straight ahead. And a step beyond he saw Hermione, a look of shock mixed with anger on her face as she stared at Ron. Harry just grit his teeth together and kept walking, following the path to the door the others had disappeared through only minutes before.

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Fleur walked around the trophy room, reading various names off various awards as they waited for the headmaster and the officials to come talk to them. She had introduced herself to the other two, intrigued to see that they were able to focus and overcome her allure for the most part. At least no one could use that as an excuse when she won the tournament.

She smiled to herself, feeling the rush that had been flooding her since her name was called. She had listened to all the warnings about the dangers of this tournament from her parents, her headmistress and even her few friends, but she still went through with it. This was her opportunity to make people see that she was a fully capable witch as well as a Veela. So many people got hung up on her lineage they didn't give her abilities any thought.

But they would have to take notice of a Triwizard Champion.

The door swung open, drawing the three student's attention as Harry walked in. All three came out from where they'd been browsing to see the younger man pace across an aisle, one hand seemingly trying to start a fire as much as it rubbed the back of his neck.

Cedric stepped forward first. "Potter? Do they need us back out there?"

Harry didn't even stop, let alone respond to the question.

Fleur stepped forward then. "Harry?" He didn't even seem to notice her standing there as he walked back and forth barely a foot from her. "Harry, what is wrong?" Finally as he turned to pass her again she reached out, her hand wrapping around hi s upper arm. "Harry. What is it?"

Harry's head snapped up to her finally. "What? Did you say something?"

Before she could ask again, raised voices grew closer before the door slammed open again and the adults rushed in. Dumbledore made a beeline for Harry, nearly pushing Fleur aside as he grabbed him by the shoulders. "Did you put your name in the cup, Harry? Did you have someone do it for you?"

Harry shook his head. "N-no sir, I didn't!"

A chorus of shock and accusations flooded the room as the visiting headmasters and one Hogwarts' professor voiced their opinions on his guilt. Harry stepped back and tried to tune out the arguing. Sitting on a small stool obviously used to reach the higher shelves, Harry leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees. He rocked slightly, trying to figure out why this had happened. Why would someone want to put him in the tournament? Surely it wasn't so he could win and become more famous.

Fleur watched him as she half listened to the arguments. Crossing to him, she reached out to place her hand on his shoulder. "It will be ok, Harry. I'm sure they can fix this. Most likely it was someone's idea of a prank, no?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It's just another year at Hogwarts."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, before being pulled back a bit roughly by her headmistress.

Madame Maxime stared down at Harry. "Fleur, I do not want you associating with this cheating glory hound."

Fleur pulled her arm free from the large woman's hand and started to defend Harry until he himself stood up and walked to Dumbledore. "Sir, what do we do to fix this? Do I have to formally resign, or just not compete?"

Dumbledore shook his head softly. "It is not that simple Harry. A magically binding contract has been established. If you don't compete, you will lose your magic. Possibly… even more." The old man wouldn't meet Harry's eye, stroking his beard as he thought.

Harry's head shook even more forcefully. "No. I didn't enter my name. It can't hold me at fault since I didn't enter myself!"

"Has your ego finally caught up to you, Potter? Expect favoritism to expound upon your 'legend' and then get cold feet when you find out it won't be warm and cushy like you're used to?" Professor Snape stood off to the side, an expression that seemed the perfect mating of a sneer and smirk on his face as he glared at the troubled youth. "Admit to what you've done for once. Act like a wizard, not a lowly muggle. Even your arrogant father would admit when one of his insipid tricks went awry."

Harry's back went rigid as he heard the oily professor take another jab at him and besmirch his father yet again. The nervous, jittery bouncing had stopped. The only movement for many long seconds was a slight shaking of Harry's hands. Raising his head finally, he met Snape's glare with one of his own. "I… didn't… enter… my… name. Regardless of what you might think, I don't want fame. I don't want notoriety. I want to go to school, and be with my friends, and be a normal student for once. I'd like to make it through one year without nearly being killed, so why would I enter myself into a tournament where sometimes there is no winner at all because everyone died during a task?! Can you answer that one, Snape?"

Snape's sneer intensified as he stepped closer to the boy. "That's professor to you, Potter. 10 points from Gryffindor."

Harry didn't back down this time though, he stepped even closer. "The day you actually teach someone something in a classroom beyond how to read instructions off a blackboard or how to kiss Lucius Malfoy's arse using his son as proxy, I'll call you professor you twat." Without waiting for the next deduction of points, and ignoring Professor McGonagall's outcry, Harry turned to the men from the ministry. "There has to be a way to deal with this. Some way to cancel an entry?"

Barty Crouch simply shook his head. "Once the contract is established there is no going back. The Goblet recognizes you as an entrant, so you must compete. It is Wizarding law, surely you know of this."

Harry chuckled, but it wasn't a happy sound. "I was raised in the muggle world, didn't you know? Didn't know this world existed until my eleventh birthday. So regardless of what you read in the fairy tales or the tabloids about me, I know very little of this world outside of my classes and Quidditch."

Taking a few steps away, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache he could feel coming. "From day one almost everybody I've run into has either hated me for trumped up reasons and gossip, or wanted to get closer to me so they could get something out of it. So much of this world is still new to me, except for the fickle nature of the magical public. So forgive me if I ask a question or two every now and then, especially when it's my neck on the line, not any of yours!" Lashing out in frustration, he kicked a tall silver trophy and sent it flying into another, and then another, leading to a small mess several yards away.

Fleur had many things she wanted to ask now, but it wasn't the time. The only sounds in the trophy room were Harry's shaky breathing and the last clatters of some shiny knick knacks rolling to a stop. "I believe him." Heads turned as people stared at her, but she didn't shy away. "He says he didn't enter. He doesn't want to be in the tournament. He is three years younger than the minimum age your ministry required, with three years less education. He would obviously be crazed to enter himself at that large of a disadvantage." She looked over to Harry, nodding once. "I believe you."

Cedric stepped up next to her. "I believe him as well. I've been here three years with him, and I've never seen anything to make me think Harry was the type to go looking for attention like this. He's the best I've competed against on the pitch, but he doesn't even boast about that." Fixing his gaze on Snape for a moment, Cedric continued. "The best seeker this school has, better than me I admit, the one who truly could brag without worrying if it was merited, and he doesn't. I don't think we can say that about everyone holding that position, do you Professor Snape?" Harry had to grin a bit at the pointed comment, even if the visitors wouldn't understand the reference.

It was most surprising when Krum stepped up, his thick accent echoing through the room. "I don't know you. Haven't been around you. You seem sincere. If you must compete, we have good competition." He nodded sharply once, standing next to the other champions.

Harry looked at all three of them. It shocked him that in a time when his supposed "best mate" and many other classmates by the sound of the whispering were already turning on him, three people he had very little to no contact with were willing to stand by him. "Thank you." Turning back to the officials, Harry thought over his next words carefully. "Someone put me in this tournament knowing I'm undertrained and underage. I figure like most things that happen around here, they're either trying to turn public opinion against me… or kill me." He shrugged his shoulders, blowing a heavy breath out. "You say I have no choice but to compete, regardless of the fact I was entered illegally in this tournament? Fine." Setting his glare on Snape once more, Harry smirked. "I've tried adapting to your ways and your rules. But for the most part wizard's opinions change like the tides. There is no way to stay on the popular side and keep any sort of dignity or morality it seems. So fine. No more nice, quiet Harry." He broke into a grin. "You keep accusing me of being crass and disrespectful, you're gonna get your wish Snivellus." Walking back to the small bench he sat, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back to Crouch and Bagman. "Well? What do we need to know?"

Everyone stared at the youngest champion, an array of emotions and reactions across the board. Karkaroff was the first to voice his opinion, his thick accent echoing off stone walls and glass cases. "This is ridiculous! You will allow a boy to cheat and then dictate events to you? He entered illegally, he should be forced to not compete and get what he deserves."

"You saying someone deserves the punishment they earned? That's a fair load of tripe isn't it Igor?" Moody had finally made his presence known, taking a dig at the Bulgarian. "Course, you might have cause to see Potter lose his magic. Old feelins' die hard, don't they?"

"Alastor. This is not the time." Dumbledore quickly interceded before the argument could get off to its full potential it seemed. "Harry, despite the high tensions of this night, you still are a student. You will show respect to Professor Snape."

Harry leaned back on the stool and took a deep breath, looking back and forth from Dumbledore to the potions professor. Snape's smug grin was nothing new. But Harry's response was. "No."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Harry shook his head. "I said no. You talk about respect, what exactly has Snape ever done to deserve it? He shows outright favoritism to his own house, and a gleeful disdain towards all others. Do you know he's taken points off of Neville Longbottom and me for breathing too loudly? Or the times he took points off Hermione for answering a question he asked her, since he claimed she answered smugly? Of course you did, because I've personally told you that he has done all of this before. You simply said that we must learn to live with all sorts of different people, and adapt. Well if that's your stance on it, I think it's about time for Snape to have to adapt."

Snape growled as he stepped toward Harry. "You arrogant little snot, just like your…" He suddenly found the tip of his rather sizable nose indented by the tip of Harry's wand. The boy had moved so quickly not even the grizzled ex-auror had noticed in time to stop him.

Harry's eyes burned bright as he stared Snape down. "If you insult my father one more time, I will permanently stick your crooked nose to your arse. Whether it's still attached to your face when I do that depends on the kind of day I'm having when you make that mistake. So if I were you, I would either start watching what I say to people or I'd start stretching every morning to be prepared."

Even staring down the wand, Snape couldn't keep himself in check. "Then you will finally be exposed as the self-righteous, grand standing, egotistical know-it-all I've said you are."

Harry simply shook his head. "You think you're untouchable because Dumbledore backs you up for some reason. Do you even realize how many people you've tortured that are now in positions of power? Former students who are now Aurors? Who now work at the Ministry? Or the people who have family that are in your classes, even now? Several have Auror parents. Susan Bones' aunt is high up in the DMLE, isn't she? Even Cedric, his father works in the magical creatures division. I bet there could be some fun ideas to be had if he found out what a right bastard you are. How about it Cedric? Any fun stories you care to share about classes with Snape?"

Cedric simply chuckled. "Oh I definitely do. I'm pretty sure we could find quite a few people willing to share their own memories as well."

Harry hadn't looked away for even a second. "Well there you go, Snivellus. So many people you've managed to piss off, are you ready to face up to your own actions?" He watched as Snape's eyes cut over to look to Dumbledore to put an end to the situation. "Don't look to the headmaster. Right now hopefully even he is starting to finally wonder why he backed you for so long." Pulling his wand away, Harry used the corner of some random tapestry to wipe the end of it clean, more as an insult to Snape than any actual need for it. Placing his wand back into his pocket, Harry turned to Dumbledore again. "If this doesn't finally wise you up to what the man you 'trust entirely' does with that trust, we'll know if you actually care about the students at this school as you have said you do. If nothing is done to reign this rabid mutt in, I will find a way to get the truth about him out. If it takes me breaking him badly enough that a trial is required, I will do just that and make sure plenty of witnesses are called to establish just what sort of man he was." Crossing back over to stand with the other champions, Harry took a spot on the end next to Krum. "Now, we were going to find out about the first task I believe?"

Bagman and Crouch looked to Dumbledore for any further interruption before they began discussing the time and purpose of the first task. The entrants weren't told what the actual obstacles were to be, only that they had to retrieve something that would help in later tasks. After being dismissed to their dormitories, Harry and Cedric offered to walk the two visiting champions to the front entrance before heading to their own rooms.

As the four stepped out of the Great Hall into the main entrance, Karkaroff grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pushed him against the wall near the door. "I have heard rumors of the great 'boy who wouldn't die', but I never paid much heed to them. I see I was right not to. Disrespectful, hot headed." Glancing over at Fleur, his sneer raised a notch. "Associating with… half-breeds and lesser. You are all that Severus accused you to be as far as I see."

Harry brushed the hand from his shoulder and stood straight, looking up at Karkaroff. "If you agree with what Snape thinks, then you obviously already know what my opinion of you must be. You were in the room just now after all. And backing a creature such as Snape, I don't think you have any grounds to judge anybody based on lineage." Pushing past the snarling man, Harry turned as he was halfway to the other competitors. "If not though, allow me to reiterate with a proper British sign of my respect and adoration." Flinging the back of his hand up to Karkaroff, Harry gave him the infamous two finger salute. "If that got lost in translation, this might help. Piss off."

The four watched Karkaroff snarl before turning and leaving abruptly. Harry noticed the other three watching him. "What?"

Krum didn't say anything. He simply reached a hand out, shaking Harry's. "Good competition." As he turned to leave, the other three would swear to see a ghost of a smile on his lips before he walked off to the Durmstrang ship.

Harry chuckled as he watched the seeker walk away. "Might as well make it one. No Quidditch this year after all." He and Cedric shook their heads sadly, causing Fleur to roll her eyes.

Extending a hand to shake Cedric's, then Harry's, she bid them both goodnight. Taking a few steps to the door, she stopped and turned, making her way back to Harry. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Merci. It wasn't necessary, but thank you for defending my… heritage to that man." With a soft smile she turned to leave, walking out onto the lawns to the Beauxbatons carriage.

Harry turned back to see Cedric giving him a sly grin. "What?!"

Cedric could only shake his head once more. "You don't even try and you build your legend up more and more. There are people who would pay good money to see my memories of tonight, you know that right? Especially you threatening Snape."

Harry just shrugged, walking alongside Cedric as they headed to the stairs. "They want to keep changing the rules on me. I don't see the point of playing by any of theirs anymore."

Cedric nodded. "I get that. And I'll tell my house what I told you. I believe you. I know at least one person in your house that will gladly stand by you. You looked to be getting pretty close before the name ceremony earlier today."

Harry thought for a moment. "You mean Hermione? We're not… together or anything. She's my friend. She could tell I was nervous about the whole thing… with good reason apparently."

Cedric clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Alright then, if you say so. I'll see you tomorrow then. Just remember to keep yourself open to things." With a quick wave, Cedric headed off towards the Hufflepuff common room, leaving Harry to head upstairs to his own, shaking his head in confusion at Cedric's parting words.

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After a haughty glance from the Fat Lady in the portrait, Harry finally made his way into the common room. Very few students were around, mostly some of the ickle firsties being talked into trying some new pranking wheezes out for the Weasley twins. Harry tried to make his way to the stairway without being seen, until he heard one young voice. "Look, it's that cheater, Potter!"

Turning around, Harry saw a short blonde haired boy pointing at him. The older students were all staring at the kid, then Harry. Raising a brow, Harry walked over slowly. "And why would you call me a cheat?"

"Everyone's saying you are!"

At that, Harry turned to look at the twins and had to force himself not to crack up laughing. Fred had his hands up in a surrender motion while mouthing "no!" continuously, while George was pointing between himself and his twin while shaking his head in a spirited fashion. Glancing to some of the others, he noticed a few also answered negatively, though a couple wouldn't meet his eyes. Harry sighed and knelt by the first year boy. "I've already been through this with the headmaster and the others. I didn't put my name in the cup. I don't want to be in this tournament. But now I have to, because someone else put me in it hoping I'll end up losing my magic, hurt, or worse."

The boy's face scrunched up. "But, he said you were being selfish and didn't tell him so you could get even more famous."

Hearing it phrased that way, Harry exhaled with a grunt. Looking over to the twins he saw that it occurred to them as well, as they both looked very pissed. "Some people… they don't like how things are. They get jealous, and they say stupid things. But it's up to you to think things out before you walk around just spouting what someone else was saying. That can get you in trouble. Or it could lead to a lot of lonely years here. Think about it." With that he stood and headed over to the stairs again.

"Wait up, chum!"

Harry let out an exhausted grunt and just flopped down onto the landing of the stairs, stretching his legs out down the steps. "Gred, Forge… what can I do for you?"

The twins looked at each other, and Harry could tell they were having one of those damn telepathic conversations. "Harry, you know we…" "Love you like a brother. So…" "If you tell us you didn't…" "Do this on your own, we'll…" "Make sure people hear the truth." "We just gotta…" "Hear it from you."

Harry was looking down at the floor, too tired to try and follow which was speaking. When they had finished, he looked up at both of them, making eye contact with George as he spoke. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He looked over to meet Fred's eyes. "And I solemnly swear I did not enter the tournament."

The twins looked at each other, then clapped Harry on the shoulders. "Good enough for us." "Anything you need, you let us know." And with that they were off, heading back downstairs to continue aiding and abetting delinquency in the halls of Hogwarts.

Climbing the last flight, Harry walked into his room to find a group of sullen looking roommates. Ron was laying on his side turned away from the door, Dean and Seamus were on their beds tossing sports magazines and leftover treats from the trolley back and forth and Neville was sitting on Harry's bed with a book in hand. Walking over toward his bunk, Harry's brow raised. "Alright there, Neville?"

Neville raised his head when he heard his name. "Oh, hey Harry." Blood ran down from Neville's lip and a large knot was raising on his upper cheek. His shirt collar had also been torn. Looking down, Harry could see the knuckles on Neville's right hand were going to be badly bruised.

"Bloody hell, Nev! What happened to you?"

Neville didn't say a word, glancing over to Seamus and Dean. They were too busy "reading" while doing all they could not to seem like they were eavesdropping. "Just a disagreement."

"Well did you go to McGonagall? She'll sort it out, you can't just let someone wail on you like that." He heard a snicker and saw Seamus trying to hide further behind the magazine. "What? Am I missing something?"

Ron was suddenly on his feet, grabbing something from his open trunk at the foot of his bed and walking to the bathroom without a word. Harry glanced up and as the door started to close he saw the other side of Ron's face in the mirror. Already swollen and bruising, with red stains looking like hastily scrubbed blood around his nose and mouth, and his eye squinted from the swelling. Ron looked like he'd been used as a beater bat and the bludgers aimed high.

Looking at all of them in shock, Harry turned to Neville as they heard the water turn on in the shower. "You did that?" he asked, wide eyed and speaking in a harsh whisper. "Holy shit, Nev!"

Seamus and Dean popped off the beds, walking over. "Aye, it was beautiful!" Seamus started in. "Ron was moanin' all the way up to the dorms tonight, cursin' your name and talking about you being a cheat. He said something about you havin' everything and then he started going through your trunk. We got up here, Neville told him to knock it off, Ron said 'stuff it squib', and it was on!"

Dean was grabbing at Harry's shoulder, head nodding frantically. "Yea yea yea… Ron acted like he backed off and walked to his bed. When Neville went to shut your trunk Ron swung his divination book over Neville's shoulder, sucker punch if I ever saw one! Nev shoved him back, Ron tried again and Neville just… BAM!" Throwing a punch at Harry, Dean caught it in his own palm. "Ron was on the floor for at least five minutes. Finally got up, muttered something to Nev about watching his back, and climbed on his bed. He didn't move 'til you got here."

Harry looked at Neville, surprise still showing on his face. "Nev… why? I mean, what'd you do that for? You could get in trouble if he goes to the teachers."

Neville was still looking at the floor, unused to this much positive attention. "It's… I'll explain it to you sometime, ok?"

Harry just nodded. "Yea, sure. Thanks though. I heard him earlier when my name was called. I know he has issues with this kind of thing, but I didn't expect he'd go this crazy." Harry pulled his tie off, tossing it over the newel post at the foot of his bed.

Neville stood up, flexing his hand and wincing a bit. But the look on his face was impossible to miss. A mix of pride and a slight grin. "Harry?" He waited until they were facing each other to continue. "Figure out who put your name in?"

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. "You… you're not going to ask if I did it myself first?"

Neville shook his head. "Anyone watching you in that hall could tell the answer to that. Hell anyone that's known you the last couple years could tell."

Harry just nodded slightly. "No clue yet. We'll talk in the morning, alright?"

Neville nodded to him and walked to his own bunk. Glancing at the book in his hand, he scoffed. "First time this damn thing came in handy for Ron most likely." Tossing the book over into Ron's area, Harry could see it was the divination textbook when it landed on the mattress.

The others started moving to their beds again, but Seamus stopped. "Hey Harry. For what it's worth, me and Dean believe you if you say you didn't enter. But…" He looked down at his hands, a magazine rolled up tight in his fidgeting hands.

"But what, Seamus?"

"Cedric's an ok bloke, I guess. But can you try and kick his arse, make this one a Gryffindor win?"

Harry just laughed, nodding as he stripped his school shirt off. "You got it."

Everyone was in bed before they heard Ron come out of the bathroom, muttering to himself when he got ready to go to sleep.

Harry rolled his eyes as he pulled the curtains shut around his bed. After a moment he added an alarm charm to the curtains in case anyone had any surprises for him in the middle of the night. Rolling to his other side, he set his glasses on the ledge at the headboard and pulled his pillow in close. After a minute or so of silence he felt the mattress shift a bit. Propping up on his elbow, he grabbed his glasses and wand and softly muttered "Lumos". The tip of his wand lit softly and he looked around the bed, wondering if there was some sort of trap laid on it. He heard a soft rustle and when he looked back toward his pillow he nearly jumped out when he saw Hermione's head appear from thin air.

"Forget something tonight, did we Harry?"

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 _First chapter is out there and I hope you're enjoying so far. Feel free to leave reviews, they're carb free and cost absolutely nothing, not even Postage and handling._


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